Black Family Crest Harry Potter の小説・ストーリー

The kid turned around, and my chest squeezed harder. For some stupid, impossible reason, I checked his eyes and found them squinting and brown, covered by a pair of specs resting on his proud nose. Instantly, my hope vanished. And then, I laughed silently. What the fuck is wrong with you, Black. Just because his hair is the same colour as yours and you think he’s your son. If he was your son, his eyes would be yellow too—silver-white hair and yellow eyes are the mark of a Black Crest heir.

The cream-colored envelope was waiting on the breakfast table when Zariel came down, propped against her water glass, heavy card stock embossed with a crest she didn't recognize, a blackwood tree, its roots as prominent as its branches, pressed into the paper in gold foil. She turned it over in her hands before opening it, running her thumb along the raised edge of the seal. It felt less like an invitation and more like a summons, the kind of thing designed to announce its own importance before a single word inside had been read. "That's the Blackwood family crest," Kaelen said, appearing in the doorway, already dressed, reading her expression before she'd said a word. "What is it?" She slid

he rasped, while Conri fought burning beams with his bare hands to clear a path behind us. “Your mother was betrayed by a servant wearing Ashina’s face, but the order behind her was born inside Blackfang’s royal line.” My heart stopped because Blackfang had never been royal, not in any story Bardolph had been proud enough to tell. Before I could ask what he meant, Lyall shoved something hard and warm into my palm. It was a small ring, blackened by fire, with Bardolph’s family crest carved inside the silver band. “No,” I whispered, because the truth forming in my mind was too cruel to touch without bleeding.

he asked. "It was my mother's." "Yes," he said. "It was." The certainty in those two words hit me like a stone. I pressed my hand flat against my sternum, over the pendant. "You recognize it." "The crest." He leaned forward slightly. "A black moon split by silver fire. It belonged to a Luna bloodline. The Moongale line." He said it carefully. "They were wiped out eighteen years ago. Or so everyone was told." I stared at him.

he said to Kaida, who nodded. "Yeah, I did. I owe you one," she told me. I smiled and shook my head. "Let's leave it at that. I'm cashing it out on you helping me bring Dalia along." At that point, a golden-haired man came striding across the grounds with the kind of confidence that demanded attention. He was dressed similarly to Riven in midnight blue with silver threading that caught the light. "That's Harrion, the prince's half-brother," I heard Kaida say

“Then what?” She looked at him, pale and calm in the flickering light. “They’re not just targeting heirs. They’re coming for the serpent itself.” He frowned. “The crest?” “No,” she said softly. “The thing beneath it.” Before he could reply, the monitors went black every single feed across the empire cut to static. Then one screen flickered back to life. A single figure appeared, shrouded in shadow. The voice was distorted, inhuman. “You swore blood to protect the future.

“You will be magically scanned and sorted based on your raw essence. You cannot lie. You cannot refuse. You cannot transfer houses.” Great. So the damn castle was going to assign me a magical Hogwarts on crack dorm based on vibes and trauma. Below the announcement were the four house entries, each with a crest, quote, and glowing bullet points. House VARGHEIM Crest: A snarling wolf’s head surrounded by crescent moons and barbed thorns Quote: “Loyal to the end. Vicious from the start.” Accepts: Shifters, battle born witches, bloodline bound heirs, monster kin

She really wanted to have grandchildren soon, she always said. "Mom? Are you serious? Why?" I asked, in a suspicious tone. "I... Dreamed," my mother muttered slowly. "Madam Black, she's come to me a few times lately and scolded me, for always badgering you about mate." "Madam Black?" I asked confused. Madam Black is one of the ancestral descendants of black magicians, who came from the Blue Fang pack led by my grandfather, my mother's father, Edward Moss.

“You let the blood of monsters claim your body again even when you recognise them. Do you remember what they did?” Images slammed into me: tearing screams, the burning house, my mother’s final cry and my father’s broken body. I could hear the sputtering of the blood as they severed every head alive, wolf or human, in a bid to get what they wanted. From where my parents his me, I peeped. The same royal crest was burned into the skin of those who murdered them. The crest of the Alpha King. The triplets’ father. My hands shook as the shadow reached out. Her icy fingers brushed my cheek, and I felt it, rage. Pure, suffocating rage seeps into my veins like poison.